chained, but free (unexpected, ironically)
by bodyeletric
Summary: The guy comes in for the first time on a particularly uneventful Tuesday, and he doesn't look like the type who's going to become a regular until he does. - Bethyl AU, complete.


**A/N: **I was halfway through writing this when I found there already is a story where Beth is a florist. At first I was sort of depressed, because I didn't want to stop writing this, but then I read it and there are no huge similarities, so I went on and posted it. Just wanted to make a note for this in case someone's bothered.

**Thank you so much to the guest reviewer who pointed out I mixed up a few dates and the name of the city they live in. That's fixed now. ^^**

**Warning: **This is so fluffy it'll make you puke. It does not have other purposes. My first language is not English and I still don't have a beta reader so please bear with me.

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I do not own The Walking Dead or its characters. If I did, the mid-season finale would've gone way more differently. Title is from a song naimed Chained, by Bianca.

* * *

><p>The guy comes in for the first time on a particularly uneventful Tuesday, and he doesn't look like the type who's going to become a regular until he does.<p>

He's all tall, tan and strong, hair falling on his left eye and a permanent frown on his face as if he had walked into the wrong place, which he might as well have. She sold flowers and plants, and the man seemed to be the kind 'I-only-leave-the-house-for-beers-and-fishing'. He wore a vest, a worn out vest that had two angel wings sewed to its back, and instead of making her weary, it only made her curious.

Beth made sure she seemed extra preoccupied with the paper ties in her hands (she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction so he'd know she had been looking), ones she uses to decorate vases for the costumers who want to be a little more thoughtful to whom they're buying the simple gift to. She pretends to fidget with a purple knot when she hears footsteps approaching, and only looks up when she's sure her expression will be neutral.

"Sorry, hi, may I help you?" Her voice, however, comes out a little too desperate for someone who doesn't care for his presence at all, but she brushes it off before she can even blush.

"Hope so." His voice is heavy and raspy and God forbid her, his eyes were _so_ blue, even though one of them still covered by a long lock of brown hair. "Sorry to bother, girl. Is Joe's gas station anywhere near this block? The one with the convenience store? 'S supposed to have a big-"

"Chicken wing sign, yeah." She's disappointed, even though she saw it coming. Joe's drew a lot of attention to that part of the neighbourhood because of the cheap boose and the chicken wings his wife made. It hadn't been the first time she had given information about the place, but something about giving it to him made her feel sensitive all of the sudden, maybe because she was so intrigued. "Turn left on the next corner and you should see the sign straight ahead."

"Thanks..." He hesitates. His eyes land on her chest and linger on for a brief second, clearly making out the letters on her name tag before his eyes meet hers one more time. "Beth. Thank you."

She watches through the glass doors as he climbs on a stilish motorcycle, puts on squary sunglasses and leaves.

* * *

><p>Maggie shows up every once in a while, and the outcome is sucky more often than not.<p>

They don't go through the 'we're only half-sisters' phase, not even when Beth's still a baby. Though Maggie's blessing for Hershel to marry again never really came, she had always been her sister, and nothing less than that. Maggie helps her with her homework, Beth teaches her how to bake goods to please one of the many in her endless list of boyfriends. Maggie sucks at braiding her hair, but Beth lets her do it anyway, and, in return, Maggie coaches her not to be so shy around boys. Their father is happy, and her mother as well. Life is good.

Time, however, goes on by, and as they grow, they also grow apart. Maggie goes to college when Beth is just a junior, and she only comes over on winter break or when it suits her. She meets people in the big city, and Beth makes new friends. Her sister's calls are less frequent when Beth's mother becomes ill, and they're almost non-existent when Annette dies when Beth is just a High School senior. A part of her resents and even blames Maggie for being absent when she and her father need her the most, but her heart is too busy grieving, and pushing memories away is much easier than hating.

Hershel and Beth are not only left hollow but busy with Annette's passing. While her father was a veterinary surgeon, Annette's contribuition to the Greene's wage had always come from the flower shop she had opened when she was still single and not yet a mother, so it was understandable she had begged them not to sell the establishment if she went to pass. They needed the money to pay for Beth's nursing school, and even though she insists her already elderly father can't work two jobs, Hershel proves her wrong by taking the floriculture business quite seriously as she enters college. Maggie sends them some money from her part-time waitress job until Beth gets an internship and can pay her own bills, and her relationship with her family is just phone calls and Christmas cards until Hershel passes away from a fulminant heart attack.

They tell her one of the most common causes for this is stress, and she almost laughs because he sold _flowers_ for a living, and if there were anybody in the world who could be as calm as Hershel used to be, she'd be damned. As much as she was younger and more naïve when her mother left them all those years ago, losing her father was a thousand times harder, and not having someone to hear her graduating speech hurts way more than it should.

Beth learns how to cope with it. It had been three years, and every day was still a battle, but she's a strong girl. She reluctantly put down her diploma, tells herself her dream is not dead each morning, and takes off to sell flowers as if she was born to do so.

And in her every single visit, Maggie makes sure she reminds her she's not doing what she wants.

"Your mother wouldn't be upset if you sold the place, y'know." Maggie shrugs a little as she takes a small sip of her cappuccino. Beth wants to roll her eyes, wants to tell her to stop being immature and say her mother's name, at least in front of her, wants to tell her how hard it was to hold it together, hold it together while she had been careless and reckless with her own little selfish life, in her little perfect apartment, perfect little job, but she's polite. It's what she does best.

"But I would be, so I'm keeping it. At least for now." She offers a small smile, manages to gulp down everything she's feeling. _Keep it together. You don't need a lecture._ "I'm still a nurse. I've just never worked as one. I have the degree, I can use it when it best suits me."

Maggie shrugs again, and it's easier for Beth to pretend her sister doesn't care at all than to confess she's a little bit right, but the older girl comes back to her home to another state before Beth thinks too much about it.

She _does_ like selling flowers, okay.

* * *

><p>The biggest share of her paycheck comes from orders for weddings, and she couldn't possibly handle thousands of flower arrengements by herself.<p>

Amy works there full time, even if things aren't too busy, but Lori and Karen usually work half shifts when the 'help needed' sign is hung by Beth on the glass doors. The two older women of the group have other jobs, so they come and go, and it doesn't bother Beth at all that they're there for mostly fun, because what they do is fun. They're girls messing with colorful things, listening to music and talking about boys, so it's not like either of them got to complain.

They're going through a freezing cold November, and it seems like all of Chicago has drowned on misery for the poor weather. Beth didn't mind the light snow, she even liked that she had an excuse to wear her knitted bonnets and different scarves and gloves, but she had to confess it was awful for business and most of days she just wanted to stay curled up on her couch with a mug of hot cocoa and a movie.

In the beginning of that very week, they had taken an order of a small deal of flower arrengements for a city hall wedding cerimony, so it's not like they're loaded with work. Beth has a room on the back of the shop for the craftwork, and since it's not a busy day in the store, all of the girls are inside, sharing stories, laughing and taking bites of the apple squares Beth had baked the night before while working. Lori was in the middle of sharing an embarrassing story about walking in on her son touching himself when the bell from the front door rang.

"I'll get it." Beth nodded towards the girls and finished up a pretty yellow bow in an arrangement before she exited the back room towards the store.

She was more than surprised to find tall, tan guy from the stylish motorcycle standing there with that very same frown, and she hates the way her heart speeds.

"Hi, may I help you?" She inquires the same way as before, and she swears if he has the damn nerve to ask her about the gas station again...

The man doesn't answer. He leans his weight onto his left foot, shifts his head a bit and they stand in silence ocasionally broken by laughs coming from the crafting room, even with its door closed. Beth swallows a sigh and blinks twice before she turns. "I'll just let you look, alright? If you need anything, just holler."

Before Beth reaches for the doorknob, however, a chuckle comes out of his throat, a chuckle that sounds way more attractive than it should, just like the rest of him. "You having a party over there, girl?" He has an accent, not too heavy but not too light for her not to notice. He's somewhere from the south, that's for sure. She can't help but feel a little frightened, even if it's just her paranoia speaking. Why is he even there? It had been a couple of weeks since he appeared asking for directions. She turns again, and when their eyes meet (his still stubbornly hidden by that goddamn hair) he seems sort of embarrassed, but guys like him don't get embarrassed, do they? "Uh... Listen... Beth. A friend o' mine just got divorced. She's moving out of her house into her own apartment, so figured it'd be a nice house-warming gift, ya know? 'S why I stopped by."

_Oh_. Now this is slightly surprising, if not amusing. She's not sure if she's more startled by the fact that he remembers her name - he couldn't possibly had read it from her nametag again, since her hair was down and covering the front of her blouse - or that he actually thought of her floriculture to be a nice place to buy something for someone he cared about. Either way, she's rather pleased, and almost takes pride in knowing the winged vest guy had come back.

"That's really nice of you." Beth smiles, because she does it to everyone. A smile could change someone's day, and he certainly had changed hers by coming over. "So you're probably wondering which one you should get her, right?" The guy nods, half ashamed, half grateful, and she circles the counter so she's closer to him. She swings her head so he follows her, and he does, as she stumbles through the shelves full of the biggest variety of plants and petals this man has probably seen his whole life.

Next thing he murmurs is a very well spoken curse, when his head hits a fern that hangs from the ceiling in a pretty vase. Beth has to bite down on her lip not to giggle. "Don't worry. It happens all of the time if you're not little like me." Maybe she's just imagining things, but a smile appears on his lips, and then it's gone. She notices his scruff is lighter than his hair, in a dirty shade of blonde, and wonders if he even has a clue of how appealing his appearence is, which is odd for Beth whom has also had a weak spot for 'I go-to-church-every-sunday' sort of boys, who dress up and smell like perfume and shave. The costumer in front of her is the exact opposite of everything she's ever had, and maybe that's why she's so curious.

"So." Beth clears her throat not to make him uncomfortable and carefully removes a small vase of violets from a shelf. "I know they're kinda simple, but your friend just had her heart broken, so I don't think she'll want anything extravagant lying around. Violets are easy to take care of, and they'll take longer to perish, even if she forgets 'bout them. I can put a bow around the vase if you want." The man examines the little pot as if he's holding a child, and Beth wonders how much her opinion of him can actually change in just a few minutes. "Besides, violets represent hope. If you don't have any hope, what's the point of living?"

His eyes linger on her face for a little too long before he nods and hands her back the vase. "Whatever you say." His tone makes her think that perhaps she said too much.

"Should I make the bow? There's no extra charge." Beth says quietly as she reaches out for the scissors behind the counter and grabs the lilac tape from a small drawer next to the cash desk. He nods again, and the silence bothers her, but she's quick at what she does, and soon the pot is placed inside a green paperboard bag with the name Paddy Reilly, the name of her store, written across it in gold. "That'll be 3.99, sir." She looks down at her feet while he searches his wallet, and once he hands her the money and leaves, she's pretty sure he must really be upset for his friend's divorce.

* * *

><p>Carl and Judith visit Lori at work one day, and the little girl stings herself in the thorn of a rose.<p>

She's no older than two, so she naturally cries and leaves Lori and Amy desperately cooing at the pretty blonde little thing until Beth rushes to the back of the counter and grabs a first aid kit. She opens it while Lori gets the cue and kneels down besides her, continuing to rock the baby up and down until Beth reaches for a small chunk of cotton and genty presses it against the tiny bleeding hole.

She hums a tune while she grabs a Hello Kitty band-aid (she's not to blame if they were the only ones in the store, but she's glad she's got to use them with an actual kid) and slowly wraps it around Judith's littlest finger. Beth's sure she stops crying because of all the pink and the kittens in the bandage, but Lori's so thankful it's like she had saved her daughter from a life threatning situation and not just soothed her from a nip.

"It's like, you could be a nurse or something." Carl mumbles shyly, kicking an invisible rock at the floor while Beth puts away the first aid kit. She smiles, because she's sure he's saying it because Lori's twelve year old has always had a little crush on her and it's cute, but she doesn't tell him she is a nurse, perhaps because it makes her a tad bit sad.

* * *

><p>"Why <em>Paddy Reilly?<em>" The voice is too rough and sudden not to belong to him, and Beth wonders if another one of his friends got divorced to justify his presence.

Beth smiles as she finishes watering a vase of white daisies, which happen to be her favourite flowers. "It's my mother's favourite nursery rhyme, and the shop used to be hers." It's a question she answers a lot, so she doesn't mind. Beth moves to water another vase that needed attention and looked up at him while she did so. He wore the same vest, the one with wings, and that very same frown that both infuriated and amused her. "So, what can I do for you today..." She darts out the sentence so he can catch the hint.

"S' Daryl." He smiles when he says his name, a half crooked smile, but it's still there, and she appreciates it. It doesn't seem like he does that as often as he should. "And I came in to warn ya that yer _Paddy Reilly_ just lost its R. You might need a bulb change."

"Really?" Beth frowns and sighs, setting the watering can aside before she brushes past Daryl and rubs her temples in circles when she's greeted with her signboard that now says _Paddy eilly_. She never had to deal with this before, and she never imagined she would. It's one of the small things about owning a place that she never thought she'd have to worry about. It even surprises her that the whole sign has lasted with its yellow glow until now. "Where am I even supposed to get a light bulb that big?" She turns to Daryl, who's watching the sign while playing with his goatee. She's beginning to think if she has any eletricists on her phone book when the man speaks.

"I could get one for ya, if you want. And I can make the switch too." He shrugs like it's no big deal, leaning into his motorcycle and all. She thinks he probably looks silly, parked in front of a very girly flower shop and talking to her, but she's glad he's there and willing.

"Could you really?" It's kind of crazy, how a guy that she first met because he wanted coordenates is now going to help her with what could've turned into a headache. "You'd be saving my life, really. Thank you. And thank you for stopping by to let me know as well. I always turn the sign off on the electrical board inside before I leave, so I'd probably go the rest of my life without noticing it."

"S' no problem. I'll stop by tomorrow." He assures her before climbing his bike, and just as quickly as he comes, he leaves.

* * *

><p>He comes back the next day as he promised.<p>

Beth wants to go outside and watch as he does the job, but it's a busy week before Valentine's Day, and she doesn't even have a second to spare; she talks to him enough to give him the portable stairs he asks for and to quickly thank him and that is it. Besides Lori and Karen, she has to hire another part time worker, a girl that's maybe her age named Rosita that makes Beth realize it'd be impossible to get through the next days without an extra pair of hands for Amy and herself.

The shop's so crowded and there are so many orders that she only takes time to notice Daryl again when he comes inside and squishes his way through a few costumers to enter the crafting room. Beth almost laughs at the way Lori's and Karen's eyes widen, and she approaches him before he speaks. He takes her outside, and since it's the end of the afternoon, all of the letters are sparkling prettily again, and it takes some weight off of her shoulders.

"Again, thank you so much, Daryl." One of their delivery boys, Jimmy, walks by with a huge bouquet in hand and whistles at the sight of Daryl's motorcycle, but they both ignore him. "I don't know what I would've done, really. How much do I owe you? I know usually the owner of the shops offers free products, but I don't think you'd be interested." She giggles, and Daryl actually follows, chuckling.

"S' no problem. You already paid for the bulbs, I just put them there." Beth is about to protest, but he cuts her off. "Let's just say you owe me one. Who knows when a man'll need some flowers." He playfully scratches his scruff as he smirks, and Beth just shakes her head and looks at her feet, hoping she won't blush in front of him again.

"If you say so." Beth sighs, and when Amy calls her name from inside, she actually wishes she could stay more. She wants to say more, though she's not exactly sure what. "Sorry, I gotta go. If you ever need those flowers, just stop by." She smiles, and before she regrets it, she leans in, kisses his cheek and hurries back inside.

* * *

><p>When Daryl makes his next appearence at <em>Paddy Reilly<em>, it's not for a good reason.

Amy called in sick the very same day and Beth's left alone, but it's a pretty unruffled day so she handles it. The shop is actually empty when he comes inside, and the very first sign that something is off is that he's not wearing his vest, and his hair actually looks combed (or less messy). She can see his eyes better this way, and boy, were they beautiful.

"Hey." She says softly, because he looks a little guarded.

"Came to claim those flowers, girl." Beth can tell he tries to smile, but can't, and she doesn't blame him, nor asks him why he needs what she owes him right on that moment.

"Sure." Nodding, she leads him to the shelf where she puts some pre-made bouquets. They don't make a lot of those, but it's nice to have them ready if somebody needs them. "These white lilies here look lovely, and they smell great too." It's one of the prettiest bouquets she has arranged that week, and she's pretty proud of it, so she almost beams when Daryl picks it up from the shelf, though she can't really get excited because he just seems so... sad.

"Thanks. These will do." Daryl nods once, and she craves to say more, but he's out of the store before she even blinks. Damn him and his power to come and go as he pleases.

* * *

><p>He comes back the very same day, now wearing his vest again. His hair is messy once more, and it makes her happy to see he's back to his normal self, but she's just about to close.<p>

"Sorry for being an ass earlier." Daryl murmurs as he gently rubs his fingers against a pretty white daisy sitting next to the counter. "Was kind of in a hurry. Had to get somewhere."

"Oh." Beth shrugs like it's no big deal, but it _is _a big deal, that he's here apparently just to apologize for his strange behaviour. She doesn't even know him, not half as much as she'd like to, but she decides that she likes him, and likes him a lot. The sort of 'I-wanna-kiss-your-whole-face-then-cuddle' like.

Daryl is silent again as she grabs her keys and stands next to him, looking up at the daisy which one petal he still holds between two fingers. "Those are my favourite, y'know." Beth glanced at the pretty vase and then back at his face, still emotionless, aside from his permanent frown that she never quite knew what it meant. "I know there are much bigger and brighter flowers, but daisies are just special."

They fall into silence again, but it isn't uncomfortable. Beth is used to babbling just so no one has to stand in awkwardness when no one has nothing nice to say, but this time, she doesn't feel that need. She's quiet like he is, staring at the pot of daisies. Much to her surprise, he's the one who speaks first.

"M'brother died five years ago today." It's so sudden, and so personal, it takes her breath away for a moment before she blinks up at him. If she ever expected Daryl to share anything about himself, it wasn't this, and certainly not so out of the blue, but she wasn't going to complain. "'S why I came for the flowers."

Beth nods, and she takes a step closer, and hugs him in that way you hug people who are not used to hugs. His arms are motionless besides his body, but she feels the heat of him, and feels him relax, and that is more than she could ever ask of him. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." She's sincere, because she does care about him, and no one in this world deserves to be sad, especially this man.

"Just tired of losing people, is all." He murmurs, voice barely there, and she shakes her head. She understands.

* * *

><p>Beth expected Daryl to run away to never find her again after the moment they share on the anniversary of the death of his brother, but she is wrong. Instead, he comes by more often, but always when she's just about to close.<p>

She learns that he works as a mechanic, which she should've guessed. It explains the strong arms, the motorcycle he loves more than his own life and even the vest. He also owns a store, one that belonged to his dad before him, and to his grandpa as well. She tells him about her mom, and how she begged them not to sell the store before she passsed away, and also about her nursing degree, and how she wishes she could use it more often than not. Daryl tells her about engines (and she keeps not understanding much about them) but also about his past, of how he's still a small town boy in awe of the big city that Chicago is. Beth tells him about tulips and their growth rate, but says a thing or two about first aiding as well, and about her sister, too.

She tells him about her family like she's known him all along, and it's frightening, how much she trusts this man already. "Maggie's always been the golden girl, y'know. Prom Queen, the soul of the party, but Daddy always said it was because she was just really sad inside. Today, I see he was right." Beth shrugs as seat in front of _Paddy Reilly, _its lights already long off. "But, I don't know. Part of me will always see her like the pretty one."

Daryl takes a deep breath, and releases it just as slowly. He's smoking, he always does, but the smell doesn't bother her anymore. She likes it how his scent is always the same, a manly scent of wood, man, a little bit of grease, a pinch of cigarette and a trace of soap. It's familiar, and it's addictive. She wouldn't know what to do if she didn't feel it almost everyday. "You don't have to be pretty like her, yer know. You can be pretty like you."

It's a simple phrase, and it shouldn't hit her as hard as it does, but she can't help herself. It's one of the most freeing things she had ever heard, and to know it was meant for her was something else. "Okay", Beth agrees, because what else can she do other than that and other than to kiss him? She has postponed it for too long, and if she can be pretty like herself, she can always be brave like herself, too.

His lips are warm against hers, and they're surprisingly soft, and she doesn't see fireworks, but stars, stars she's so eager to explore, explore with him as she gets to know him more. His hands, so big but so gentle, find each side of her face and their kiss deepens, and in the end, Beth's happy she has waited until this moment to make the first move.

* * *

><p>Beth thinks about selling <em>Paddy Reilly <em>more frequently these days, but she know she still isn't ready. Daryl assures her that's it's fine, though, that she takes her time, because she sure has a lot of it to spare.

It's one of those busy days, and one hell of hot August day, when he stumbles inside, all tall, tan and strong, hair falling on his left eye and a permanent frown on his face as if he had walked into the wrong place, which he might as well have, but she knows better. His vest still makes her curious, though he insists there's no story to it. She frowns behind the counter, giving a costumer its change before she meets him halfway. He usually picks her up by the end of the day, and wonders what could be so important for him to show up early.

"Hi, what are you doing here?" Amy's giggling behind the counter and Beth kinda hates her for it, but she has gotten used to the teasing.

"Nothin'. Came to drop flowers off to a beautiful lady." Daryl transfers a small vase of white daisies into her hands, one he certainly did not buy there, and her heart melts a little, because he's so tough all of the time, she cherishes the moments she can actually see him break.

"You're ridiculous." Beth giggles, because she _owns _a flower shop, for God's sake, but she still kisses him right there, and the vase of daises stays close to her everyday on the crafting room, and whenever she catches a glympse, she thinks of him and smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hopefully, you've all liked it :) I wrote this surprisingly quick, so again, I apologize for an any unseen mistakes even though I've searched for them carefully. I'll definitely write more Bethyl, so I'll see you around!


End file.
